


Beauty and the Full Moon

by rosekay



Category: Aladdin (1992), Beauty and the Beast (1991), Disney Princesses
Genre: A princess abroad, Badroulbadour, Diplomacy in the best sense, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:43:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosekay/pseuds/rosekay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the prince's uncle dies, Belle goes east to settle their affairs and meets the queen of Agrabah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty and the Full Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crazykookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazykookie/gifts).



There was a year of long meals lingered over and basking in the new sunlight that seemed to have sprung from nowhere after a winter seasons long. Belle began quietly working her way through the vast library, enlisting Chip and a few of the other children to help her catalog and organize each title. She separated out the ones so old that they had begun to crumble at the seams, devouring their brothers and sisters to see what best to do to stay the decay. The prince observed her efforts, at first indulgently, and then with growing interest. Even many years later, she’d remember some of the best and happiest moments of her life as those spent by the fireside with him, her fingers guiding his eyes on the page, her mouth helping him reshape what had been lost with a thoughtless word and a thoughtful curse.

It was only when the prince’s distant, bitter uncle died that she realized how quiet their lives had been, how out of the way their little kingdom had been, protected first by enchantment and then the larger world’s indifference. Suddenly couriers were rushing in and out at all hours, quarrelling with the castle staff and with each other so that Belle was sure Cogsworth would have some sort of episode and simply collapse from exhaustion and overmanagement. There were treaties to be viewed and signed, petitions to be considered, invitations that arrived on everything from scratchy tin plates to rich vellum and silk, scented with faraway places that made her heart leap. She could tell the prince was unhappy at the thought of setting out from the castle that had at last become a home in place of a prison.

In his eyes, still the quiet, clear blue of the sky all delicate after a storm, she could see the old worry and fear, the boy emerging again, and she put a hand to his face, so oddly smooth, soft beneath the light calluses on her fingers.

“I’ll go.”

***

The prince had smiled wryly at her trunk of books, all indulgence. He’d kissed the insides of her wrists, her forehead, her mouth, quite tenderly--still a studied thing with him--and wished her a safe journey. If his fingers lingered on her knuckles as he reminded her of all the precautions she must take, she didn’t remark on it.

It was determined that the overland journey would be too dangerous, long and full of thieves waiting to prey on a foreign caravan, so she spent the long journey by boat reading about the spires and libraries and great advancements of the east, fingertips tracing the elegant scripts that seemed beyond her, learning the enchantments of a different land. She was violently ill for the first week, before spending most of her days sunning herself on the deck with a new book, remembering to wear a bonnet when she heard Mrs. Potts’ no-nonsense voice in her head telling her what a lovely complexion she had, how she mustn’t waste it, my dear.

She developed a decent seat on a horse during their short crossing through the desert with its brilliant skies, and Agrabah rose out of the sands like one of Chef’s elaborate cakes, every delicate whorl of its architecture distinct and lovely against a still sky.

Her party was small, but she was given rich cream, a little sour, sweet dates, and fragrant meat upon her arrival, servants with their eyes curled large as if by paint and attentive hands that cleaned and oiled and warmed her, gave her silks to wear--her lady-in-waiting, whose stiff comportment Belle had begun to think predated her stint as a piece of furniture, had been appalled, but the fabrics had seemed so wondrous and soft and wouldn’t it be untoward of her to refuse a queen’s hospitality?--rich tea to drink, offered paint for her own face, the only thing she graciously demured at.

They had somehow struck the exact brilliant shade of yellow her gown had been the night she and Beast had danced in his castle, everything lit with new happiness. “Lovely against your skin, my lady,” the leader of the palace ladies had said in her pleasant, studied accent. Belle wondered if this was magic too.

The queen, when she came, gave Belle to drop to her knees at her beauty, which was the beauty of the fullest moon, her eyes liquid and arresting, her skin like rich honey. She welcomed Belle as fellow royalty, complimented her ladies on their work in dressing her, complimented Belle on the brown of her eyes, the pink of her nails, her soft mouth. Together they looked at the silks that would travel west on the back of a newly signed agreement--the queen had disliked the prince’s uncle and found Belle a much more pleasing face with which to do business--at the spices that would go with them, and the many little treasures to sweeten that first journey.

Her full name, Badroulbadour, was a mouthful that Belle struggled with, eager to learn, but clumsy with it. “Don’t worry,” said the queen. “Everyone here calls me by my milk name--Jasmine.” 

Later when Belle read that this name too--this name of rolling hills and curves--meant beauty, she knew she had made the right choice in coming here.

When her questions began building up on top of one another, Jasmine took her to the far east wing of the palace, where Belle’s mouth fell open at the artfully stored scrolls, the delicate metalwork, the countless scripts and instruments and information. Oh how her father would have loved to see a collection, a library, such as this, as full of numbers and theories as stories, maps to see the whole world.

Against the low cushions on the floor, Jasmine explored the geography of Belle with dignified curiosity, her long fingers hot inside her and then salty upon her mouth, where she inhaled to make Jasmine’s mouth curl into a smile. The queen wore little scent besides her own, richest between her legs, where Belle made her own exploration, one hand braced against the queen’s round thigh, and the other beneath her ribs so she could feel them heave with pleasure.

“I think,” said the queen, “our two kingdoms shall be very close.”

Belle breathed a sigh of agreement, light on sensitive skin, and the queen gasped at her wickedness.

***

“Are you safe?” said the prince when she returned. “Are you well?”

She kissed him very properly, eager to tell her new story already. “I have much to share.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this Treat with Belle venturing out. :)


End file.
